


While the Cat's Away

by woodironbone



Category: Mass Effect: Andromeda
Genre: Clothed Sex, Enthusiastic Consent, Get Nathan Ryder Laid 2k17, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Oral Sex, Ryder is not having any of that romantic stuff, Smut, Trans Character, Trans Male Character, Trans Ryder, but he will be having Reyes' mouth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-26
Updated: 2017-04-26
Packaged: 2018-10-24 05:40:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,937
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10735281
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/woodironbone/pseuds/woodironbone
Summary: The date was nice and all but Ryder's wondering when they're gonna get down to it. Reyes has just the place.





	While the Cat's Away

**Author's Note:**

  * For [paragonraptors](https://archiveofourown.org/users/paragonraptors/gifts).



> This was written for my good buddy about his very rowdy boy Nate, who really just wanted to get goddamn laid and kept getting hit in the face with romance instead. Look Reyes, holding hands is great and all bUT WHAT IF WE JUST FUCKED.
> 
> Prompt was something like "they do it on Sloane's throne" and that's about all there is to it, really.

The sun is rising over Kadara Port, washing over Nate as if to remind him, specifically, that the night passed without a good fuck. He and Reyes have been sitting on this roof drinking this whiskey, Sloane’s whiskey, for over an hour, and despite both of them being pleasantly drunk and a little rowdy and horny as hell, nothing has happened. This is getting to be a problem, a problem for Nate, specifically.

They’ve been drinking slow, enough to get a good buzz going, neither of them interested in getting wasted, and all that implies. Reyes is sort of leaning against him, shoulder to shoulder, and Nate is starting to feel like the moment he hit Andromeda someone painted a target on his ass, except instead of bullets it attracts shit like this.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Reyes is saying, gesturing vaguely to the Port.

“If you like sulfur and degradation,” says Nate.

Reyes chuckles and takes another swift sip. They’ve got to be getting near the bottom of that bottle by now. “It’s not so bad, Ryder.” He sets the bottle aside gingerly and looks at him, all heavy-lidded eyes and playful smirks. “After all, it has me.”

“Yeah.” Nate fidgets and tries not to look like he’s fidgeting. Reyes is either too drunk or too enamored to notice. “Listen, uh…”

Reyes draws a stiff breath in through his nose and sits up a little straighter. “You have to get back to your ship,” he guesses.

“No.” Well, _yes_ , probably, Kallo’s probably straining something trying to get in touch with him, but… that’s not important. “I’m just wondering when, uh…”

“When?” Reyes leans back in with a smile that’s on the line between affectionate and suggestive. Nate decides to nudge it firmly to the suggestive with everything he’s got.

He shifts around so he can look Reyes in the eye, and he says, “When are we gonna fuck?”

Reyes actually looks startled, which is almost worth the price of admission; he blinks, then bursts out laughing. “My _goodness_ ,” he says, affecting a scandalized air. “So coarse.”

“I just figure if we’re gonna do this we should do it,” says Nate, turning in toward him a little more.

Reyes chuckles again, a low, thoughtful sound, and he studies Nate for a moment before he pulls back and starts to pick himself up. “I’ve been known to be all business, when it counts,” he says. “And I certainly do like a man who knows what he wants.”

“I have plenty to offer in that department,” says Nate, offering him a raised eyebrow, now things are moving and he is fuckin’ about it.

“Well, that can be arranged.” Reyes stands and offers him a hand up. “Not here, though. I have just the place.”

“Better be good.” Nate allows Reyes to take his hand, _again_ , and it’s less skin-crawlingly weird than it was the first time but it’s still a massive indulgence on his part.

“Oh, you’ll like it.” Reyes throws him another wink and leads him down from their perch.

  


“I do not like this,” says Nate flatly.

Reyes just laughs. He strolls up the big empty room to Sloane’s big, empty throne. Nate stays put for now, shifting his weight and looking askance about the room. He feels like any minute now he’s gonna get sniped.

“I promise you, she’s not here. Not anywhere near here.” Reyes reaches the throne and turns around, holding his hands up in a half-assed placating motion. “Trust me.”

“Would _you_ trust you?”

“When it comes to getting away with something, most definitely,” he says, and folds his arms, one hip cocked, a pretty picture of someone much cooler than himself. “I paid off her guards to give us the room. She has work in the Badlands that will take the afternoon. We have this place to ourselves.”

“And when she comes back and finds out we were in here, she’ll put our heads on spikes,” Nate deadpans.

“Come on, Ryder, you’re not afraid of Sloane Kelly, are you? A powerful man like you?” Reyes looks Nate up and down—an assessment, not an appraisal.

Nate shrugs and finally saunters forward in spite of himself, because, well, it’s true that Reyes would be in just as much shit as him if they were caught, and Reyes is obviously a man who doesn’t like getting caught. And that throne is looking good. And so is Reyes.

“Only a little,” he says, which is a flat lie.

“Hm.” Reyes smiles as he watches him advance. “Well, the way things are going, she may not be in charge here forever.”

“Not sure if upheaval’s what this place needs,” says Nate, and some part of him is livid that they’re actually talking shop right now. “Anyway she’s not… like, a _great_ leader, but this place is functional, right? It’s better than nothing. And probably better than some shadowy overlord.”

“Right,” says Reyes with an odd hesitation that Nate would wonder about if he wasn’t drawing close and ready to be done with this conversation.

The hesitation has its uses, anyway, letting him slide up and set his hands at Reyes’ hips, pulling him forward. Reyes drops his arms and lets out a murmur of pleasant surprise, settling his hands on Nate’s chest.

“I knew you’d like it here,” he says.

“Like is a strong word.” Nate considers Reyes for a moment, considers his options, considers that mouth. Reyes does has an excellent mouth, all jokes aside.

Reyes considers him right back, then glances behind him. “Shall I sit?” he says with clear intent.

“Nah.” Nate turns them around and steps back nimbly, settling down into Sloane’s perch with an only slightly accelerated heart rate. This _definitely_ feels like a bad idea, on multiple levels, but he’s not about to argue with the prospect of finally getting Reyes to shut up for a second. He smirks up at him and says, “Too slow.”

Reyes is looking down at him with a good, hungry expression, chewing his lip. “Never been accused of _that_ before.”

Nate has to swallow a laugh, or rather turn it into an approving chuckle, and work like hell to resist a snarky _Are you sure?_ But Reyes seems keen to make up for lost time, looking at him with far greater intent now, his eyes tracking slowly up and down. Not like before; this time, Nate knows that look, the ol’ undressing-him-with-your-eyes. He leans back, content to leave it there for now.

“Didn’t think this was gonna be my style,” he says, patting the arm rest, “but it’s kinda nice. Really puts you in the mood.”

“Thinking of ruling with an iron fist?” says Reyes drolly.

“Something like that.” Nate eyes him for several long moments, then lets his legs spread a little. “Let’s start with you on your knees.”

Reyes can’t quite contain a shiver, which is a pleasure to see, though he remains standing, still with one hip cocked. “You’re _full_ of surprises.”

In some other galaxy Nate might have been drawn into fooling around a while, trading wiseass remarks and working up to some plateau. Now, though, it’s been six-hundred years and unacceptable change, he’s sitting in the throne of a woman he’s very sure will kill him someday, and he’s had it up to here with playful.

He leans forward and grabs Reyes’ hips again, drawing him forward sharply as well as drawing a soft gasp; reaches up, fists his hand in the front of Reyes’ suit and drags him down for a kiss. No coy storage room distraction here, this is all teeth and tongue and making Reyes _moan_. He means fucking business.

Reyes sinks down pretty quickly at that prompt, and Nate just crowds in over him, gripping his head, the back of his neck. He catches Reyes’ lower lip between his teeth and sucks slow and deliberate before letting him go, sitting back, and gesturing with an almost businesslike air at his own crotch.

“Yes sir,” Reyes says with a flippant little salute, but there’s nothing flippant about the way he slides in between Nate’s knees and slips his fingers under the waistband of his pants. Nate squirms impatiently and Reyes’ eyes flick up to his, showing some mischievous energy before he leans in and presses his mouth against the stretched fabric.

“Sst—!” Nate startles at the sudden press of warmth, gripping the arm rests as he curls over, and he feels Reyes smile against him.

“Mmn.” Reyes mouths at him slowly, almost thoughtfully. “Not what I expected.”

For a ghost of an instant Nate feels an old flicker of irritation, ready for that stupid argument about what is or is not between his legs, but Reyes kills that before it starts, redoubling his efforts with every bit of deftness he’s bragged about, which is nice and all, but Nate’s still got his _pants_ on and his patience is officially out. He takes a gentle but firm fistful of Reyes’ hair and pulls him back, then fumbles his way out of his pants as quick as he can without getting up. Reyes reaches out to help him until they’re down around his ankles and he’s poised and ready, and Reyes is still gazing up at him with that heavy-lidded stare.

“Orders, Pathfinder?” he says sweetly.

“Ugh.” Nate makes a face, and Reyes snorts his amusement. “First, don’t call me Pathfinder. Second—” He tightens his grip on Reyes’ hair and pulls him in. “Just fucking _blow me already_.”

Reyes responds well to being literally pushed into the situation, despite all the evidently romantic feelings he seems to have tangled up in this; Nate is ignoring those as hard as he can, maybe a good fuck’ll knock them out and they can move on. He’d say something, honestly he would, but now, with Reyes’ nose buried in deep against him and his breath wet and hot and his tongue drawing slow, agonizing lines up the inner folds of his cunt, now is not that moment.

That code name is fucking _earned_ ; Reyes knows what the shit he’s doing. Nate holds him firmly in place with a hand on the back of his head, rolling his hips against him, and Reyes just takes it like a goddamn pro, drawing labored breaths through thick, wiry hair. He keeps that tongue moving, trying to be a tease even while actively shoved between Nate’s legs, no sense passing up an opportunity apparently. He alternates licking long, thoughtful strokes and darting around the head, quick movements that have Nate breathing hard and fast. He’s trying to keep a lid on things thanks to that background radiation fear that Sloane or one of her cronies will come looking, but Reyes is giving him a real run for his money on that. Reyes licks in deep and Nate shudders, his posture uncoiling to lean against the seat back, hands dragging Reyes along with him; he wraps his legs around him too, why not, keeping him securely in place.

Reyes peeks up at him with a smile seen clearly from his eyes, and hums low and playful. Nate feels the vibration deep in his gut and his hips lurch forward reactively. Reyes’ hands find his thighs, bracing himself as Nate rubs rough against him. He can take it, and does, eagerly. Nate feels the lightest brush of teeth as Reyes catches him and sucks him in.

“Ffhhuck,” Nate grits out, gasping, struggling to keep from just throwing Reyes down and fucking him into the floor. This started with the damn throne, it’s gonna finish with it. “You fuckin’ _slut_ , you’re so good at this.”

That sort of slipped out unexpectedly but Reyes seems to like it, moaning heavily as he digs his fingers into Nate’s thighs and does some ridiculous agile thing with his tongue that finally has Nate groaning and gasping for air. He squeezes his legs tighter around Reyes, who lets out a soft, muffled whimper. Fuck, but he does look good like this. Nate’s fingers card through his hair before tugging and pushing him in again, and Reyes gives him another good hum, a buzz Nate feels all the way in his extremities.

“Ohshityeah,” he says on a shallow exhale, clenching his fist in Reyes’ hair, holding him as tight as he can, wanting him right up in there when he comes on his face.

Reyes moans again, the only word for it is _wantonly_ , and keeps mouthing at him like a good fuckin’ boy. Nate sits curled around him for a shuddering minute before finally letting the tension go out of him and leaning back, struggling to catch his breath.

Reyes licks him up and pulls back, grinning at him, dazed and flushed.

Nate looks back for a moment before glancing down at the noticeable bulge in Reyes’ pants. “Need help with that?”

“I wouldn’t dare to presume,” says Reyes coyly.

Nate snorts and leans down to pull his pants up, then settles back comfortably and stretches one leg out. He nestles his foot between Reyes’ thighs and presses his foot down over him, just enough pressure to make him suck in a startled breath.

“How’s that work for you?” Nate says with a little smirk, rubbing his foot slowly up and down.

“You are—certainly something,” Reyes says with evident effort, his breath coming in increasingly short.

“I’m the Pathfinder, baby.” Nate leans just a little more weight in and Reyes arches back, gasping hard.

“I—thought you didn’t go in for the titles,” Reyes says, working so hard to keep up with the smart remarks, visibly struggling.

“That’s just when _you_ do it. _I_ can say whatever I want,” says Nate, “cause I’m the Pathfinder.”

This isn’t normally something he’d go in for, but fuck it, he’s sitting on a goddamn throne. He pushes Reyes harder and gets a shrill yelp for his trouble, and he smiles. Reyes did a real number on him; he feels like he could just lie down and take a nap if it weren’t for the incredibly perilous space he’s occupying, so he’ll trade for getting Reyes off with the least amount of effort possible. Reyes certainly isn’t complaining, his hands braced against the throne as he rubs himself off against Nate’s foot. Nate rests his chin in his hand, smiling indulgently.

“Like that, huh?”

“I like a man who keeps me on my toes,” Reyes says between difficult breaths. Nate arches his foot and then stretches it slowly forward, drawing a very good plaintive whine. “But I suspect I— _hhah_ would like _anything_ you could dish out.”

Nate suppresses a sigh. Not this again. “Man you talk a lot,” he says. “Come here.” He keeps his foot in place but reaches forward a little, which is slightly uncomfortable, but Reyes is eager to oblige him, leaning forward to make up the distance. Nate takes him by the chin, scraping the pad of his thumb over light traces of stubble before setting two fingers at his lips. “Don’t think I was done with that mouth of yours,” he says.

“I can’t blame you,” says Reyes with a raised eyebrow, and parts his lips to accept Nate’s fingers, sucking them in slowly as he settles into a steadier rhythm of grinding against his foot. Reyes may be a hopeless romantic sap but he’s a goddamn master with his tongue, flicking it delicately at the soft skin between Nate’s knuckles and then up between the full length of his fingers before sucking again, making enthusiastic little noises as he goes. Nate’s already getting aroused again, which would be great if they weren’t still in Sloane’s big boss room, but there’s no pulling out now; Reyes is determined to prove he can go down on anything, drawing his tongue slowly up the soft underside of Nate’s fingers before actually _swallowing_ , which startles Nate into an altogether too-breathy gasp. He pushes his foot forward unrelentingly in some kind of payback, and Reyes lets loose a full-throated moan, his mouth still full of Nate’s fingers even as his jaw goes a little slack, spit slicking his lips as he brings himself down.

Nate holds him there for a moment before drawing his fingers out slowly, wiping the spit on Reyes’ face. Reyes looks up at him—he’s more flushed than ever, his hair’s come all askew, and he looks real good, but he’s still smiling like he wants to say more shit.

He pulls back a little, still kneeling, composing himself. “Ryder, I—”

“Look,” Nate blurts out, “I’m really not looking for—this is as far as I want things to get.”

Reyes blinks, refocusing a little, and smiles faintly. “I just wanted to say I had a good time.”

“Me too!” Nate sits up a little straighter. “It was great! I just—you know, I’ve got… planets to visit, vaults to turn on…”

“Ryder, please.” Reyes raises his hands. “Let’s not ruin the moment.”

“That’s what I mean,” says Nate, “this is not a moment. I just want to be clear about that.”

“Well you certainly aren’t _subtle_.” There’s no bite in this. If Reyes is disappointed, he’s not showing it, which suits Nate just fine. He smiles and gets up, offering Nate a hand up from the throne. “We might want to clear out.”

Nate studiously avoids taking his hand, picking himself up.

“Maybe we’ll do it again sometime,” he offers.

“I can think of _many_ more good spots on Kadara for an illicit fuck,” says Reyes. He slides his hands into his pockets. “Just don’t be a stranger.”


End file.
